


An Example to be Made

by lynnthere_donethat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and a little more angst, Anxiety Attacks, Big brother Dream, Blood and Injury, Capital D for DARK, Dry heaving, Emotional Trauma, Found Family, Gen, Graphic descriptions of violence, Manburg Festival, Manipulative JSchlatt, Mild Gore, Multiple Shifting perspectives, Not Canon Compliant, Over Protective Tubbo, Over protective Dream, PTSD, PTSD and flashbacks, Panic Attacks, People dealing with the consequences of their actions, That is a promise and a threat, The fic is out to hurt you, Tubbo dies but he respawns with trauma, Villain Technoblade, Villain Wilbur Soot, Vomiting, and i drag characters through their arcs kicking and screaming, because this is kinda dark and deals with a lot of heavy topics, dissociative behaviors, emotions will be felt, gratuitous explanations of scars, he lives in my head rent free, it would probably be easier to write what ISNT in this story tbh, kinda self indulgent, lots of soft dream and tubbo, ohhhhh boyyyyyyyy, this was more of an experiment in writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27552670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnthere_donethat/pseuds/lynnthere_donethat
Summary: AFter Schlatt found out about Tubbo's betrayal, he devised a plan to expose the truth. After all, traitors shouldn't be given a platform to preach from. And an example had to be made. So that no one would dare go behind his back again.Caution Advised: This is not seeking to glorify or make light of; panic attacks, anxiety attacks, PTSD and related trauma. There is a lot of graphic descriptions of scars and character's recovering from traumatic experiences. Healing is a process and I am not seeking to try and make it seem like Tubbo just immediately recovers with no trauma. I apologize for any incorrect inormation. If any of the content creators say that they are uncomfortable with this kind of writing, I will take it down. Please, be safe and cautious while reading this, because it is dark.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 6
Kudos: 249





	An Example to be Made

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bastardoftherealm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastardoftherealm/gifts).



> This labor of love took 8 days to write and a lot of thanks and love goes to my friend Cass (bastardoftherealm) for reading along and helping me work through some tougher parts! She's an amazing writer so please check her stuff out as well!

The yellow concrete was cold against his back, the blocks connecting to the enchanted microphone to eliminate any way for Tubbo’s escape. Onlookers watched in confusion as the President and Vice President tag teamed, in trapping the young teen- who was often praised as Schlatt’s right hand man.

“Schlatt?” The pitiful whimper echoed across the terraformed valley, over the uneasy and confused crowd of citizens and guests to the festival. The festival Tubbo had decorated and organized. The festival, that was his own execution. 

The ram hybrid smirked condemningly down at the brunet cowering against the blackstone throne that Fundy had made. The color pallet had been intentional- with the Yellow and Black color scheme of L’Manburg- the dissolved nation that the brunet had fought in. The teen’s suit was rumpled from his cowering position, and Schoatt sneered, before talking to the crowd. 

A booming voice, filled with hate and conviction painted the optimistic brunet in a dark light. Many citizens had known Tubbo to be undyingly loyal to the cause- and had simply assumed the brunet’s loyalties had transferred based upon the power change. However, this assumption was false. Secretly dispatching information to enemy hands, and sneaking away through an underground network of tunnels. Schlatt rattled off of several other crimes. He was declared a traitor, and charged with Treason.

“Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” Schlaltt asked, deadly quiet with honey flavored poison dripping from his words.

“No?” Tubbo quivered, panic laced in his voice. 

“Nothing good.” And with that, the proverbial gavel had slammed, signing his fate. 

Tubbo could swear he heard the loud clack while the crowd immediately jumped to protest. Eret and Niki being the loudest- declaring it false and that Tubbo could not have committed treason. Others, such as Ponk and Punz had looked on, perturbed at the grandiose displays of power against a kid but were stuck and unable to help without being cast out as well. And the lone Pogtopian, who was formally invited to the festival as a sick joke, and a jab to his known compatriots. 

The President lived in false confidence that the former King of Hypixia had joined his side- merely stocking resources and gaining overpowered weapons to supply him with. False. Technoblade had only ever served himself, and preferred the chaotic ways of anarchy, and ridding the world of oppressive rulers. Of which, Schlatt had fit that bill to a T. 

Speaking of Technoblade, the President had enthusiastically convinced the retired fighter and king to join them on the stage. The crowd fell into a hate-filled hush, outraged at the audacity of charging Tubbo to death for a crime that there was no noticeable proof or evidence for. The citizenry, elected cabinet and the hidden nomads watched with bated breaths as Technoblade gracefully and carefully climbed the stairs of the scaffolded podium- the Halloween themes starkly contrasting the bright festival colors. 

The king had dressed up for the festival, with his long pink hair tied into a braid, flowing red cape with white trim and an elegant, lantern sleeved white dress shirt that was tucked into high-waisted black slacks.A fluffed cravat hung from his neck and dark leather combat boots thudded against the flooring as he approached. All Tubbo could see and focus on was the weapons, however. The sheathed Netherite sword that hung from Technoblade’s hip, a faint glow of enchantments casting a low purple light from the sheath. Clutched in his off-hand was a aquamarine and faintly shimmering trident, sparkling with enchantments and the cleaning job Technoblade had done on the weapon. A testament to his patience and skills. An unspoken threat as well, as Tubbo noticed the white-knuckled grip on the trident’s staff, veins bulging from the strength in Technoblade’s hand. Strung under the red velvet cape, and secured against his back was a crossbow, unloaded. Yet Tubbo spotted the quiver of arrows against Techno’s thigh, with a couple of off-looking arrows. Rather than the sleek and slim arrows- these were bulkier, with a comical red and blue stripe pattern on them. 

“ _ Rockets”  _ Tubbo’s mind had supplied. 

The teen gulped, looking up at the masked King. His eyes widened to see that Technoblade was already looking at him, pity and pain shining in the dark eyes. The bleached pig skull mask however, casted shadow and hid the rest of the king’s face. Despite the emotions that swam in the king’s eyes, his posture remained stiff as a board. A facade of boredom, or nonchalance. The mask served its purpose of conveying Technoblade’s true emotions, and his posture gave the prattling President no insight on Technoblade’s thoughts and feelings. Aside from impatience at the pompous prelude to what was an obvious execution. But, as Schlatt continued his tirade, the man began provoking and goading Technoblade to do away with the teen. Take him out, with his weapon of choice. 

It’s not like Tubbo could escape anyways. 

Fear flooded Tubbo’s veins with ice, and they began to rapidly fire messages to Wilbur and Tommy for help. In his fear, he did not register the sudden tensing of Technoblade’s shoulders, or hear the violent protests everyone made. Tubbo didn’t hear any of it. He couldn’t focus on the near riot the crowd was at. Of course not! He didn’t want to die. Not before he turned 17! He knew respawns existed, but there is only so much that a respawn can repair. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. No, please…. 

“I’m sorry Tubbo. I’ll try to make this as painless as possible.” 

A loud , screeching whistle.

Heat exploded in his face.

Pain shortly followed.

Red, White and Blue spirals.

Darkness approaching.

Fading vision.

Cold concrete.

Void.

Blackness.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Something?

_ Beep...beep...beep. _

A heart rate. 

Searing pain.

Blinding lights.

Stone walls 

Grey bricks with rainbow colored windows.

A tall figure.

_ Whimpers _

_Revelations_

But wavy brown hair instead of pink.

A silver crown instead of gold.

A blue velvet cape instead of red.

Eret.

Eret instead of Technoblade. 

Tubbo sat up, gasping in pain, already feeling the tears well up. A scream ripped through his throat, and his hands grabbed at his face, trying to make the burning pain stop. Hot white pain burned under a soft cloth. The cloth didn’t matter, but the pain did. It spread from his cheeks, and further down. It  _ hurt _ like no respawn had ever hurt before. 

Many people had always said that respawns after deaths could hurt for a few moments, depending on the type of death. And any pain attached usually lingered around the killing area. Lungs for drowning, legs for fall damage, stomach for hunger. Arrow wounds usually depended on the killing shot- but common complaints of chest and neck pain were reported. 

This however, was nothing like Tubbo had imagined, or experienced before. They did not know exactly how many people had died via rocket launcher, though. They were expensive to make, and rockets were rare as ammunition. They were primarily used for displays. 

The shock of death had faded, but the burning still persevered after regaining consciousness. Tears cascaded down his face as he gripped the areas that hurt, but cool hands grabbed his, gently prying them away, a soothing voice overtaken the sobs and the visions in Tubbo’s head. Long fingers carded through his hair, as his body was pulled into a lithe form. The soft silken shirt Eret had worn to the festival pressed into his back, and Tubbo could only cling on, afraid of being left alone after the traumatic disaster that was the festival. 

As Eret continued to talk, the deep vibrations of his voice further grounded Tubbo, matched with soft rocking and the calming hand in his hair. Violent sobs that left their chest heaving for air slowly faded to pitiful hiccups. The monarch cautiously had pulled Tubbo back, to get a proper look at the poor boy, and sighed sadly. Empathy alighted on the features of Eret’s face, as he swiped a thumb under Tubbo’s eyes, wiping the tears leaking steadily from broken and hurt blue eyes.

“Oh Tubbo, are you okay?” Eret asked, the silver crown glinting in the soft torch light. They swiped a thumb over Tubbo’s cheek once more, before looking at the boy’s face again, still gauging the boy’s expressions. Tubbo could barely speak over the hiccupping sobs that still racked his system however. A near silent knock on the door had brought Eret’s gaze to dart to someone behind Tubbo, but Tubbo could barely bring himself to care. He wept still, as his face was cradled in Eet’s cool hands, and Tubbo could barely bring himself to care about a rando knocking on the door. Until the unknown figure sat behind him, placing a warm hand against the tender skin of his back. 

Skin? 

It was now that Tubbo was suddenly aware of the cool air around his torso- soothing the burning feeling that still resided. Looking down and displacing Eret’s hands, the teen gasped at the thick swathes of bandages covering his chest and upper torso. The white bandages cascaded down his arms as well, though not nearly as thick as his chest bandages. Hands flew to his face and he choked on a sob once more, feeling thick padding on half his face, just below his right eye. It was now that he gained the self-awareness to register the cottony feeling encasing him, and the fact that from his waist up, he was naked. 

He had been changed while asleep- cause he was not wearing the pressed, black suit pants that Schlatt had demanded he wear. Instead- soft grey cotton pants adorned his legs, and woolen socks on his feet. As he took in his state of dress, Tubbo became aware that the hand never left his skin though, and Tubbo brought himself to look behind. A familiar sight- stained jeans, green hoodie and a white porcelain mask. And green eyes. Dream. Eret pulled their hands into their lap, before standing and making their way out of the room, as realization dawned on Tubbo’s face. The door shut with a soft click, and the two were left alone. 

It was Dream. Actually Dream! Dream, who had moved his mask on the side of his face with Eret’s departure, exposing freckled cheeks and nose, and overly emotional eyes. Emerald green eyes, that swam with a storm of anger, pain and hurt, and Tubbo could feel his own eyes water at the sight. Dream was hurting and angry for him, because of what they had done to him. Tears spilled over and alarm flooded Dream’s face, before Tubbo threw himself into Dream’s chest, clutching painfully to the elder who was his older brother in everything but blood. 

The wounds left over from his execution screamed at the sudden and rough movement, yet Tubbo couldn’t bring himself to care as he felt Dream wrap him in an enveloping hug- avoiding the bandages and tender skin. But a hug that only grew firmer with each passing second. The chamber was silent, except for the soft sniffles coming from the teary-eyed teen.

After several long moments of hugging, Tubbo pulled away and wiped his tears. 

“What’re you doing here? I thought you were filming manhunt?” His voice cracked from the crying and lack of use. Dream softened visibly at hearing words come from Tubbo’s mouth, before he answered.

“Eret called me as soon as the festival started going south. I told them I couldn’t finish, and that we’d have to reshoot. Because I needed to be here, with you. Eret told me everything, and I’m sorry Bee. I’m so sorry I wasn't here to protect you. I’m sorry they did this.” Dream said, cupping a hand to the younger’s cheek. Tubbo leaned into the touch, and he felt exhaustion crash into his system. Adrenaline and fear fading into warm comfort. The subtle scent of Dream’s eucalyptus wash flowed into his senses, with an Dream softened and pulled himself to the headboard, and pulled the teen into his side once more.

“Go ahead and sleep Tubbo. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He whispered into brunet locks, sealing to words with a gentle kiss into Tubbo’s hair. The teen smiled as he fell asleep, warmth and comfort flooding his system as he cuddled up to Dream. 

“When I get my hands on them, they will regret ever laying a finger on you. I swear to it Bee.” Dream swore, gently holding Tubbo close to his chest. That promise was the last thing Tubbo heard, before succumbing to sleep. 

  
  


Two days after the festival, and after Tubbo had respawned after his execution- Eret had allowed them to leave for Pogtopia. Dream had forced Schlatt into allowing them passage with George’s help. The Co-Vice President wasn't around a lot, but between Dream’s pissed off expression and George’s deadly clipped tone, the President begrudgingly allowed them passage. Although the ram hybrid had followed them the entire way, until they passed into unclaimed territory. 

The duo made it to Pogtopia soon enough. Tubbo was quickly escorted by Tommy to his new medical room, while Dream hung back. While Tubbo had a teary reunion with Tommy, Dream had several arguments with Wilbur, and a fight with Technoblade. 

Wilbur had goaded them into using the new “fighting pit” that was mined out shortly after the festival. A splatter of blood still sat on the rough diorite, from the previous fight. The one where Tommy still sported a black eye- given to him from Technoblade. The same fight where the retired monarch had a bandage draped over his cheek, from Tommy. 

Wilbur was all too happy to bait Dream into fighting- the tenseness in the blond’s shoulders ever evident. Technoblade remained impassive. He argued that he had no option. 

“Bullshit Technoblade! He’s just a kid! A fucking KID!” Dream roared, before lunging with a vicious swipe of his sword, only to be met with a ringing clang as Techno defended, his own sword drawn. The blond sneered, tossing his mask aside. Rage lit up stormy green eyes- and his lip curled into an ugly snarl. The constellation of freckles became twisted with how angry the blond was. Days of pent up anger and frustration coming forth in a tidal wave of malicious intent to the man responsible. To the monarch who had put his not-blood brother through living hell. 

“Dream~ come on now, let’s not be so vicious.” Wilbur taunted, leaning against the stone wall. The blond rolled his eyes before storing the sword away, a soft metallic  _ shing _ as the blade slid into the leather sheath at the blond’s hip. With a crack to his knuckles, he squared up, raising his fists to guard. Techno paused, before following suit. 

In Dream’s opinion, mild chaos was allowed. Destruction of Manburg was 100% okay- but not at the cost of the two teens he considered younger brothers. Not at the pain and suffering of Tommy and Tubbo. He had already put the kids through hell, he would be damned before doing it once more. 

As Dream guarded, he observed as his opponent dropped his cape into the corner, and discarded his mask as well. He raised his fists to block, as Dream was quick to dart in a quick jab at the pinket. Techno snarled at the cheap moves, and countered with a sharp kick to the ribs, before spinning to face Dream. Dream barely caught his balance after the kick, and swiped out as well with a kick, forcing his momentum to maintain upright. 

The duo continued trading blow after blow, kick after kick. After twenty minutes of the same song and dance, Wilbur grew bored. He jeered at them, taking sides and then switching. Another five minutes of the duel passed before Wilbur sighed. He allowed them to pick up their swords.They but, neither gaining an upperhand. Satisfied with the high risk, Wilbur sank down to sit at the edge, a wide, toothy smile on his face. Joy evident at watching the two strongest members duel it out over Tubbo. Though the joy didn’t last much longer, when Dream made a weird twist to his wrist, before his sword sliced behind Technoblade. 

With a vicious snarl on his lips, the blond had ducked his sword behind Techno’s back and sliced the braid off. There was a moment of stillness, before rage flooded Techno’s face and his attacks became reckless and angry. Strong, heavy swings of his sword came in a flurry, Dream barely able to hold off the clearly enraged Technoblade. 

“What the fuck? What are you doing!” Came an enraged shout. The pair paused, sweat dripping from their temples. Blood flowled sluggishly from the wounds sustained in their many blows, yet no one had gotten an upper hand. The three men glanced up and stood at the precipice was Niki. The usually calm baker was clearly angry and her soft accented voice rang out in fury when she had arrived. Her blonde hair was falling from her ponytail, indicating a very hectic day within Manburg. She was probably on her way to visit Tubbo, when she had noticed the grunts and clangs of swords. 

“Niki, dear! They are merely having a disagreement.” Wilbur said, cheerily trying to soothe the clearly gruntled Germanic girl. Her honey colored eyes narrowed angrily, before she dropped into the pit. Although she was far shorter than both the men, the blonde had no problems being seen as she grabbed them and pulled them down to her level. Wrangling them down to her height by yanking on their sleeves. The taller men bent down awkwardly, glancing over to each other before focusing on the blonde- the irritation vibrant in her eyes.

“I don’t know what started, but we are not going to be fighting. Not anymore. Not here. Is that understood?” She glared at the men. Dream sheepishly nodded, and pulled away from Niki. She did allow them to move away but did not leave the pit. Instead, she stood, arms crossed as she watched them gather their belongings. Dream strode away to the entrance of the pit. 

“Sorry about your braid. Stay away from Tubbo. Or else.”Dream said coldly, before lifting himself out and stalking down the ravine. Niki eyed Techno, and she handed him his belongings before climbing out of the pit and huffily walking down to where the supply corridor was. Techno remained, passively looking to his brother. Wilbur merely shrugged and offered a hand to the pinket. Techno took the aid and wordlessly left to his farm, unwilling to regain Dream’s ire. Wilbur remained at the pit, gaze locked on the diorite stone, already lost in thought. The final moments of the fight replayed in his head for quite a while afterwards.

And if Techno’s hair was noticeably shorter in the next few days, well as Techno himself said: “What happens in the pit, stays in the pit.”

  
  


As he departed from the pit, Dream felt that he had made his displeasure about how the festival went crystal clear. Dream was definitely not known for his leniency on hurting people he considered close friends and family. And even though he had allied himself with Pogtopia- he greatly disagreed with using Tommy and Tubbo as bait and pawns in Wilbur’s twisted game of chess. And Techno’s impassiveness grated on Dream’s nerves. He found himself outside the medical area, laughter filtering out from behind the curtain. Dream peeked into the room, and saw Tommy and Tubbo chattering. With the movement, Tubbo looked up and brightened seeing Dream, before fading to concern.

“Dream! What happened, you’re bleeding!” Tubbo gasped, spotting the bloodied knuckles, and blood trickling from under the mask. 

“Techno and I got into a fight. I’m okay Tubs, just getting some supplies to clean up the wounds.” Dream said softly, poking into the chest for bandages and antibiotic fluids to clean and dress his injuries.

“Ah, I see you found the pit.” Tommy scoffed, glaring in the general direction of the pit with unrequited anger in his eyes. Tubbo frowned and patted Tommy’s knee in solidarity. 

“It’s okay Tommy.” Tubbo said softly. Dream smiled softly and dressed his wounds quietly, before joining the teens on the bed, only leaving when Niki came- much calmer than before, to tell them that dinner was ready. She left Tubbo a plate, and ushered the two blonds away from the brunet. Dinner was a tense affair, but Niki’s glares kept the conversation placatingly civil. When they finished eating and cleaning up, Dream excused himself to check on Tubbo and collect the teen’s dishes. The others simply let the blond go without fight. It was a very quiet night that night. 

Dream had dropped a bombshell on Wilbur a day after their arrival. Eret would be coming to Pogtopia to help Tubbo heal, along with Niki’s aid. Wilbur was not keen on allowing Eret to come to Pogtopia- but didn’t want to risk angering Dream, who was still cross with the elder brit. If the “no nonsense” undertones were anything to go by. Understandably so- but that didn’t mean Wilbur wanted to invite his former enemy into his new home. The blond could sense the curly haired brunet’s complaints, and waited to see Wilbur scoff at the idea, but was skeptical yet surprised when Wilbur gave him a simple nod, though not without a strained look in his eyes. Victory washed over Dream in a wave of smugness, before wiping it away when he visited Tubbo. He was more than pleased at how Wilbur wasn’t fighting him on this. He was rather glad that the brit had realized that he could not afford to piss Dream off, especially when it came to the care of Tubbo. 

It would be another four days until the bandages would come off, permanently. Tubbo couldn’t stomach looking when Eret or Niki redid his bandages and Dream was always there, holding his hand in a firm grip. The roughness of the older’s hands calmed the teen. Calloused from his years of fighting with swords and bows, hardened from days of mining for his supplies. Big hands, capable of wielding axes, yet nimble enough to deftly braid flower chains with Tubbo on warm days. 

Niki held a mirror for Tubbo, as Eret carefully unwound the bandages. When his torso was exposed, he gasped softly.His heart plummeted to the floor when he took the scars in. Right on his ribs was the impact zone- an eight pointed star pattern, before large arcing lines exploded- like a firework. The darkened skin was still very tender and tingled with pain after being exposed to the air. As Tubbo turned- his eyes tracked the lines, watching as they continued to wrap around towards his back, before vanishing. Like the launched firework had razed the lines into his flesh before rocketing into the blackstone throne. He felt his chest clench at the realization, and nausea bubble into his stomach. 

“...o? Tubbo! Look at me.” A stern voice said, shattering his focus. He didn’t even realize he was no longer looking at the mirror, but instead into worried green eyes. He gulped, and focused his eyes onto Dream’s. Slowly, Dream walked him through a grounding process and breathing exercise, before gently stepping away, hands and eyes never leaving his own.

“You okay? You started just breathing really heavily, before you started crying. You don’t need to look. We can still keep them bandaged until you’re ready.” Dream said softly. 

“Yeah Tubbo. We won’t force you to stop wearing the bandages.” Eret said, already digging through his pack for the roll, before Tubbo spoke.

“No, I don’t want the bandages on.” Tubbo said, shaking his head. Taking a deep breath, Tubbo steeled their nerves, and he nodded. The bandages fell off his shoulders, and he felt the rush of cold air as his bandaged cheek and jaw was exposed, the bandages falling away. 

Pocked skin, and that spiral continued onto Tubbo’s face. The lashes of the firework were permanently embedded into his skin. Tubbo looked into the mirror, and gasped painfully witnessing the faint color embedded into the lines around the impact site. Dream’s grip tightened on his shoulder, before his face hardened at the sight. Barely visible, faint red white and blue lines littered the lines of the impact site, before fading. It was as if the powder used had been embedded into his skin. Tubbo gulped heavily, but took a deep breath, pulling his eyes away from the scars. 

“Dream, do you have an extra hoodie?” Tubbo asked, softly. Dream’s tense posture melted away at the request, a soft smile on his face. 

“Here.” The elder said, and stepped away to pull the lime green hoodie off. The black under tee was rumpled from the hoodie, but Dream straightened it out. Tubbo softened and gently pulled the hoodie on. Tubbo smiled, smelling the eucalyptus and vanilla scent of Dream. The long sleeves pooled to Tubbo’s hands, and he balled them into sweater paws, before wrapping Dream in a hug. 

“It’s gonna be okay Bee.” Dream said, ruffling Tubbo’s hair. Tubbo nodded into Dream’s chest, feeling like he would be okay, for now. But alas, the peace could not last. 

Five days after the bandages had come off was when the peace was shattered. With the aid of Niki and Eret, Tubbo worked his way into using the injured arm once more, careful as the taut skin of the scars protested lots of movement. He was walking around a lot more though, usually accompanied by Dream or Tommy, to rehabilitate himself into the war effort. Tubbo decided to do some minor maintenance on the redstone automatic farm he had built, when he noticed he was no longer alone. The brunet was double checking the pistons when the creak of the door sounded, causing him to shoot a look in the direction, before freezing. 

After his bandages came off, Tubbo became very self conscious about his facial scars- despite Tommy’s reassurances of them looking “cool as fuck”. Dream was all too happy to lend a mask to Tubbo, designed to look like a bee, the teen’s favorite animal. However, when he was checking the pistons, Tubbo had left the mask off, preferring to have an unobstructed view of the pistons and ensuring that the redstone was still orderly. If the lines were not clear enough, the machine could break down entirely, and it would flood the crops, which was not good for them. 

When Tubbo had looked behind him, his eyes connected with startled red ones. Cropped pink hair poked from under a straw hat, and wide red eyes zeroed in on Tubbo’s own blue eyes. Technoblade. Tubbo felt his heart drop at the sight of the ragged farming gear that the king had worn, feeling ice flood his veins as memories popped up. The whistle, the pain and the heat. Tubbo gasped, as tears poured from his eyes, and he shoved past the still shocked Technoblade, the man stumbling as Tubbo pushed past and out into the main chamber of the ravine. A choked sob echoing behind the slammed spruce door snapped Technoblade out of his shell shocked horror. 

Technoblade had not seen Tubbo when he arrived, and just knew that the boy was injured.  _ Because of him _ . However, he never knew the extent of the injuries. No one had filled him in, and he had made drastic moves to avoid casually passing by Dream, especially after their fight. He avoided Tommy and never stepped towards the medical area- not wishing to risk seeing Tubbo and angering Dream once more. Which he failed at evidently.

While Techno had no reason to expect that the brunet was in the farm, since Tubbo was on a rehabilitation regime for his injuries, it did not help in the slightest at the pure fear in the boys eyes. The injuries definitely warranted everything that had happened- from Dream’s fierce protectiveness, to their resulting fight as well as Tommy’s ire. Even Niki and Eret’s apprehension around the pink haired male. The injuries spoke for it all. And what injuries they were. Techno felt sick after seeing the angry scarred skin of ropes of burgundy burn scars that spiraled from under Tubbo’s loose clothing. Of which was a sickeningly familiar green hoodie. One that Dream hadn’t been wearing as much, the sacred hoodie changing to a cropped yellow one with a black shirt covering his midriff.

What had shocked Techno to his core was the lacerating ropes on the boys face, an arc of burns barely missing the boys right eye, razing a line from the jaw, across his nose and barely scraping the lower lash line. If Techno had aimed a millimeter higher- he would’ve hit the teen’s eye. 

With a choked gasp, Techno crumpled to the floor, overcome with unbearable guilt. He couldn’t stop reliving the moment, closing his eyes as he fired- heart clenching in pain at killing the teen. The fear in the kid’s eyes as he leveled his newest weapon, launching an explosive firework at point-blank. He fought Tommy over this, and won. He fought Dream and they tied, and now he was a monster. The monster he was trying to flee from. 

Nausea rocked through his stomach, before sending the male to retch into the sowed ground before him. Nothing came up, yet the nausea remained. Sickeningly gory images continued to flash behind Techno’s eyes, sending him into another round of painful dry heaves of nothing but air. Tears stung Techno’s eyes and slowly began to trickle in small rivulets down the panes of his face, and his choppy hair curtained around him. 

Yet nobody arrived, and nobody witnessed Technoblade at his lowest moment. Heaving lungfuls of the wet, earthy air helped ease the nausea as Technoblade could sit up and collect himself. His stomach wobbled with every passing second, until the images faded away from his mind. 

Emotions crashed into him, tugging painfully at his weary heart as he reimagined those big, blue eyes moments before he pulled the trigger. The fear would haunt Techno until he was six feet under the same Earth he had dedicated to tend to. Or at least attempted to. Techno could do nothing but wallow in his own self-pity, heart clenched at the flashes of Tubbo- a vicious cycle of curle taunts forever locking Techno into this torturous dance. 

  
  
  


It would be hours before someone stumbled onto Technoblade still sat in the wet dirt of the farm. And Techno could only whimper at the sight of wavy blond hair, porcelain mask and the yellow cropped hoodie. The speedrunner traded his usual jeans for a pair of black ripped skinny jeans. The mask was casually on the side of his face, exposing the constellation of freckles and emotive green eyes. Confusion and concern washed in said eyes at the sight of the man. Techno attempted to build up his facade, but the open concern crumbled the broken and fragile walls. 

“Techno?” Dream asked, concerned yet apprehensive in his voice, and his body language. Which was amusing- considering recent events. Techno couldn’t believe that this was the same man that was near spitting with curses and rage a mere week ago. But, Techno inclined his head, red eyes leveling with Dream’s own and . The blond continued his slow approach, until he was hovering at the man’s hunched figure, arm outreached before hesitating. 

“C-can I touch you?” Dream asked, apprehension painfully obvious on his face. He was unsure of how to handle the normally stoic man, given his odd posturing, but Techno nodded, seeking a sliver of comfort amid the sea of turmoiled emotions. Dream laid a firm hand on Techno’s shoulder, and the pinkett reacted by leaning into the touch. He slowly grounded himself and his face twisted in discomfort at the wetness of his clothes. Dream, noticing the look began to retract his hand, before Techno grabbed his wrist.

“No, please.” He rasped, voice rough with the choked off gasps and sobs that brewed angrily in his chest. Dream hesitated, torn between giving Techno space, and yet wanting to ease the obvious pain the man was in. He settled for laying his hand back on Techno’s shoulder. 

“What can I do to help?” Dream asked, unsure how to proceed.

“Just, stay here with me?” Techno asked, stealing his nerves slowly and rebuilding those walls once more. With the anchor of Dream keeping him present, the foundations were much stronger this time. 

Dream nodded and slowly rubbed circles into Techno’s shoulder, humming a soft tune and occasionally rubbing Techno’s shoulder in comfort. He was way out of his depth, especially concerning Techno- but the progress Tubbo had made in his rehabilitation began rebuilding the bridges in Dream’s mind. 

It would take time, a lot more time, before those bridges were as strong as before. Dream was wary about letting the pink haired royal near his brother. But he was definitely not pissed enough to leave the male like he was. 

But the thing was, Dream did not know what spawned the panic attack and the resulting dissociation. 

He did not know that Tubbo had seen Techno. Had frozen like a deer in the headlights of a speeding car and ran for the hills. 

He did not hear that choked off sob of fear and desperation. 

He did not witness the young teen run away from the unsuspecting male. Hadn’t known that the said male was unaware that Tubbo had been in the farm. 

He didn’t know what happened. And Techno was afraid of what would happen when Dream inevitably found out. 

Infact, Techno was surprised Dream did not already know. And that the blond was here, comforting the man who had severely and permanently disfigured the teen. 

He pushed the blond away, the warm comfort dissipating with the distance. Confusion plainly detailed in the head tilt, and the constant up and down of the blond’s jaw as he failed to make a coherent sentence. Techno held a hand up.

“I’m sorry Dream. I don’t deserve your compassion.’ The pinket said, closing his eyes briefly in preparation. For what? Techno wasn’t sure. He could never really pinpoint how the blond reacted on a good day, and right now was brand new territory for them. And Techno wasn’t sure how to feel. 

“What do you mean?” Dream asked, caution lacing his voice. The blond recoiled slightly and he watched with apprehension as Technoblade obviously geared himself up for an admission.

Moments passed between the two men before the ink haired man dropped his gaze to the ground with his admission.

“I saw Tubbo.” 

  
  


Tubbo sat in his medical bed hours after running into Technoblade. He had bunched the sleeves of Dream’s sweatshirt up until they had become extremely wrinkled. He had calmed down in the time secluded away from the farms, but he just couldn’t get  _ those _ eyes out of his head. Dead, cold, and calculating. Unwavering red eyes locked on to the teen, with only slight apprehension until the loaded rocket was leveled at the brunet. 

Tubbo’s lip quivered as hot tears sprang to their eyes, feeling another panic attack come on. Dropping his head between his knees, Tubbo tried taking deep breaths, and felt his chest constrict painfully. Gritting his teeth, Tubbo rubbed a hand against the scars, feeling the taut skin dip into the muscle and Tubbo felt a hot tear streak down his chin at the phantom pains. 

A couple minutes dragged by, as Tubbo kept their head down. He heard a soft  _ swish _ of the medical bay curtains and someone walked in. 

“Tubbo?” Dream asked, the hunter paused inside the door. He rushed to the bed, worry evident in his body language. Hands held up, nervously flitting and trying to comfort but unsure if he could touch, his face pinched in anxiety, and the waver to his voice as he began asking questions.

Tubbo couldn’t ignore his brother, but having a hundred thousand questions lobbed at lightning speed, did not help de escalate the situation. Not in the slightest. A worried whimper escaped Dream as Tubbo buried his head further between his knees, eyes clenched. 

“Drem…” Tubbo whispered, tilting slightly to the side to reach Dream’s hands. When his body made contact, Dream quickly swooped in to hold the boy, immediately shifting onto the bed, and carding a hand through his hair, gently whispering soothing words into Tubbo’s ears. 

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay Bee. It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m here.” Dream said softly, continuing to card his hand through Tubbo’s hair, and slowly rubbing circles into the boys back. Slowly, Tubbo uncurled from his ball and threw his arms around Dream’s neck, burying his face into the crook of Dream’s neck, tears slowly falling. 

That same whine escaped Dream’s lips as he felt the tears fall against his neck, and he clung tightly to the boy. Tubbo wrapped his legs around Dream’s waist, and just sobbed, trying to wash the fear away with Dream’s presence and scent. As he heaved deep breaths, he calmed down once more. Tubbo let go of his death grip, and leaned back slightly, teary baby blue eyes looking up to worried jade green eyes. 

“What happened, Bee? Tommy didn’t know where you were, and I started getting nervous.” Dream said, holding the boy softly. 

“I was checking, the uh super farm. Making sure the pistons and the redstone were working. That way the water didn’t spill and ruin the crops.” Tubbo mumbled softly. “As I was getting read to leave, T-Techno walked in. He didn’t say anything, but we just kinda made eye contact, and then I ran.”

Dream’s hands clenched at the mention of Techno, but Dream released at the slight pinch of pain to Tubbo’s face. Calming down, Dream just held Tubbo softly, being careful to avoid any lingering blisters or tender skin. 

“Are you okay?” Dream asked, skipping over everything else he could say. 

“I will be, but I didn’t know I would see him. I want to be okay again.” Tubbo sniffled, another tear slipping out.

“Healing takes time, Bee. You will eventually, but it will take some time.” Dream said softly, bringing a hand up to cup Tubbo’s cheek. The small brunet nuzzled in, and went in for another hug. Dream was quick to hold the teen tightly, rubbing his hand softly on the teens back. 

“I don’t want to burst into tears just at the thought of Techno, though. Tommy and Wilbur like him, and I know that he didn’t want to kill me, but sacrifices had to be-” 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence Toby. You should have never been a sacrifice, for  _ anything _ . Do you understand me? Children should never be used as bait, no matter what, and I am pissed that they allowed this to happen. That  _ I _ allowed you and Tommy to fight in the last war.” Dream said fiercely, his eyes burning with fierce protectiveness and slight hatred at the transgressions that had occurred. Dream shook the teen a little, the passion pushing him to try and physically make the teen understand. Tubbo nodded, eyes wide. 

“Yes Dream. I understand.” They said, blinking owlishly at the blond, who pulled him into a rough hug. 

“You shouldn’t have died. Wilbur shouldn’t have placed you as the spy, and Schlatt should have never put you in that bullshit “right hand man” place either. I’m sorry that I failed to protect you Bee. I’m so sorry.” Dream murmured thickly, unshed tears welling in his eyes. Tubbo shook his head, and gently wiped the tears away.

“It’s not your fault Dream! I agreed, and you could not have changed my mind about trying to help Tommy and Wilbur. I would have done anything to help them. I’m sorry for worrying you, but this was my choice.” The brunet said, cupping Dream’s cheeks to stare into his eyes. Dream opened his mouth to argue back but Tubbo shook his head. 

“No Dream. I don’t wanna argue this. What’s done is done, but I don’t think we should hate Techno. He deserves our anger, but not our hate. Save that for the war. Forgive him though, he didn’t want to hurt me. I could see it in his eyes.” Tubbo said softly. 

“I just don’t know if I can fully forgive him. Even if we did kind of get even, and if we did tell him that the past is in the past. He hurt you, and Bee- I hate seeing you get hurt. And these scars are permanent.” Dream said, pain swimming in his eyes. Tubbo nodded. 

“I know. But, now I look badass!” Tubbo grinned, looking at the swirl pattern on his arm after pulling up the green sleeve. 

“That you do Bee.” Dream said, fondness creeping into his face little by little.

Healing took a long time, and there were days where Tubbo stayed in his room, talking to nobody and wearing his Bee mask. The teen would sit, huddled in soft wool blankets, with a familiar green hoodie bunched in his hands. Aloe and mint filled the room, while silent tears fell from baby blue eyes. Nobody was allowed to enter, but that didn’t stop two blonds from sitting vigil outside, waiting when the brunet would fall into their arms, with hot tears and murmurs of “make it stop” in pained tones. They traded spots, so the other could eat and get food for the brunet should he need it. 

Those days often lead to Tubbo being extra quiet the next day, holding Dream’s hand or Tommy’s. The days like that were often quiet, with a precious atmosphere. 

Months after he and Techno first saw each other, Tubbo found himself in the farm once more. He was doing another check on the redstone machinery, but he wasn’t alone this time. On the other side of the stone walls, stood a pink haired and red eyed man, who still wore his crown from ruling Hypixia. They worked in silence, only the small murmurs of Tubbo thinking out loud breaking through the sound of Technoblade working the ground, and harvesting the potato plants. Tubbo had forgiven the man weeks after talking with Dream, and the pink haired man had graciously accepted, and apologized profusely for what had happened. 

Dream had also forgiven Technoblade, but it was not as easy as Tubbo’s had. The blond and the pinket were seated on the hillside where the ravine sat under. The black sky alight with faint sparkles of stars. Dream’s new yellow hoodie had become commonplace among his allies, while Techno still adorned his cloak and crown. 

“You know that Tubbo has forgiven you, right? You don’t have to keep stepping on eggshells around us.” Dream said, casting a look at the male wearing his pig mask. 

“Tubbo forgave me. You have not, and I would rather you didn’t cut my hair again. Your shit at haircutting.’ Techno deadpanned, turning his head to the side as well, meeting Dream’s eyes. The white porcelain mask sitting to the side of Dream’s face, exposing his freckled cheeks and green eyes. An unimpressed stare met mirthful brown eyes from behind the pink pig mask. 

“Noted. I won’t touch your pretty pink hair Baconbits. Besides, I forgive you too. Kinda. I can forgive you for not sparing Tubbo- considering your situation. But I will not forgive you for scarring him, or giving him even more PTSD. I won’t forgive you for the stress you put on him.” Dream said plainly. 

“You really are a paradigm of pragmatism aren’t you.” Technoblade said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t know that I was gonna be assassinating a teenager, and even if Schlatt and Quackity weren’t decked out in OP gear- but Punz and Fundy were. Ponk has potions and Purpled built a fucking space ship, I can only imagine what he had. I couldn’t not kill him, but I will apologize for scarring him and using the rocket launcher. It was overkill and I am sorry.” Techno said, solemnly looking out to the oak forest. 

“Apology accepted. Now, why don’t we go get some food, because I’m starving, and I do not want more potatoes.” Dream said, scrunching his nose up. The pair stood up, and Dream reattached his mask. With a glance over his shoulder, the blond gave a two fingered salute, before running and jumping into a tree, taking off into the night. Techno rolled his eyes and began chasing through the undergrowth for some innocent animals for food. Despite a chest of food residing in the bunker underneath the hillside. 

Tubbo, hidden in the shadows watched from a tree in the clearing. He shook his head watching the two depart. Dream and Techno were not known for being emotional with each other, so after the heavy conversation, they eased the tension with some bizarre race to inevitably spar in the night. And if they returned an hour later, with more vegetable seeds than meat, as well as easy smiles, nobody said anything about it. 

An example had been made, but a family grew from the remains. 


End file.
